


didn’t know if you’d care if i came back

by kunimi, miyaosamu (kunimi)



Series: like waves (we break and we build) [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Exes, M/M, Post Timeskip, Post-Break Up, atsumu vc: you always sucked at math, but never stopped being half in love with, hey siri how do you trade casual remarks with the man you stopped fucking, most readable as the first step in an exes to lovers arc, or former fwb-in-love who split up but never stopped having feelings meeting again years later, osamu vc: shut up do not perceive me x
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:01:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28169691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kunimi/pseuds/kunimi, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kunimi/pseuds/miyaosamu
Summary: It's a cool night. Quiet. There's distant laughter in the air, echoes of camaraderie inside, but it's just the two of them standing out on the balcony, and Sakusa Kiyoomi looks beautiful against the night sky.He always has.folklorebot:i didn’t know if you’d care if i came back / i have a lot of regrets about thatsakusa kiyoomi is always beautiful, and miya osamu feels like he’s twenty four again.
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: like waves (we break and we build) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2196774
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24
Collections: 🐶🍙 omigiri fanfic collection





	didn’t know if you’d care if i came back

**Author's Note:**

> yet another twt drabble posted here. sigh. it’s like 1k or smth. smh
> 
> original thread [here!](https://twitter.com/kurokenns/status/1339938757370265602?s=21)
> 
> i actually plan to do a proper get back together fic for them one day but it has a different timeline and such in my head; this was just a little appetiser for iris, who i have made listen to me yell GET BACK TOGETHER OMIGIRI...... at her for the last wee bit lmao
> 
> also iris did some BEAUTIFUL art and knocked me out which i’ll link at the end!!

"Hey, Kiyoomi," he says, the name falling as easily out of his mouth as it used to. He wasn't sure it'd still feel the same. It doesn't really, he supposes, but maybe it's like muscle memory. Something built into his skin. Repetition, ritual. The taste of Kiyoomi's name in his mouth can't be unlearnt that easily.

(in the back of his head, Atsumu frowns at him. "Ya can't unlearn somethin' if ya don't even fuckin' try to," his twin's voice says, and Osamu banishes that thought. Maybe it's a memory. He doesn't want to think about it.)

It's a cool night. Quiet. There's distant laughter in the air, echoes of camaraderie inside, but it's just the two of them standing out on the balcony, and Sakusa Kiyoomi looks beautiful against the night sky.

He always has.

Kiyoomi looks at him steadily. His eyes are dark, but piercing, like they see through everything. Like they see through him. He'd forgotten that. What it felt like to be looked at like that. That Kiyoomi had ever looked at him like that.

Maybe not forgotten, so much as pushed down. It was easier.

"Osamu," he says, his voice smooth. Osamu hates that he's wearing the mask. It's been a long time since he had to unravel what Kiyoomi's expression was from behind a barrier. He can't decide what's worse: if he can still do it, or if he can't.

Both options make his heart hurt, just differently.

"Been a while," Osamu says, and Kiyoomi snorts at that. It's light, but unmistakable.

"That's one way to put it," Kiyoomi says dryly.

Osamu swallows. "You doing good?" he asks, and Kiyoomi shoots him a careful look. It's sharp, focused. Like he's picking Osamu apart the same way he picks apart an illogical argument, as if he can tug on all of Osamu's frayed ends and weave them into something usable.

Osamu doesn't think he had any frayed ends before Sakusa Kiyoomi. Some worn threads—the first steps he took from Atsumu, mostly—but nothing split apart. Nothing that ever really ended, not like whatever he was doing with Kiyoomi.

"You don't have to be coy," Kiyoomi says. "You know the answer to that professionally. Did you really want to know the answer to that elsewhere?"

Honestly, Osamu isn't sure he does, but he's asked now, and he's never been much good at backing away from a challenge. He's spent his whole life with Atsumu, after all.

"Sure," he says, and hopes it sounds more nonchalant than it is.

Kiyoomi hums. "Adequate, I suppose," he says. "I'm not dissatisfied."

"So you're not satisfied either," Osamu surmises. Kiyoomi arches a brow, and Osamu wonders for a moment if he's overstepped. Then he thinks about how Kiyoomi's boundaries have always been physical—privacy, too, but those walls came down a long time ago with them, and he's not sure either of them ever figured out how to put them back up—and the reason they'd gotten along so well (he thinks. He wants to say that. He hopes Kiyoomi would say that) was because neither of them had ever backed down from a hard truth.

Osamu isn't afraid of a challenge, and he doesn't think Kiyoomi is either. Can't imagine him having changed that much. He doesn't know how to walk the line of what they are now, mostly because he doesn't know the answer to that question, but he doesn't think overstepping is even in their vocabulary. Neither of them have ever liked leaving something undone: Kiyoomi because he likes to see things through, and Osamu because he's always been willing to take the harder path for what he wants.

"Are you?" Kiyoomi asks.

Osamu turns that over in his head. Is he satisfied? He's content, he thinks. He's starting to think that's not the same thing.

"I'm not _dis_ satisfied," he says, a teasing hint to his voice. A test, maybe. Of what Kiyoomi will allow.

Kiyoomi's eyes crinkle at the corners, and Osamu knows immediately he's smiling behind the mask, and he knows what it looks like – a wry thing, faintly amused despite itself. The left corner of his mouth quirked higher than the right.

Osamu remembers kissing it off Kiyoomi's face – not once, not twice, but dozens of times.

"So you're not satisfied either," Kiyoomi mimicks, following the script, until he doesn't. Until he goes straight to the soft heart of it all. "Did you find what you were looking for, though?"

Osamu thinks about Tokyo – about the shop he went to launch, about the shop people want in Miyagi, about expansion as both a venture of capitalism and also a description of the state of his chest, cracking itself open with _what could have beens_ and _what nearly weres_.

"I did what I went to do," he says, and he's aware it's not quite an answer. He doesn't know how to say there was nothing for him to find, just things to do. Tasks to complete.

He doesn't know how to ask if Kiyoomi found anything worth looking for either. He's always been honest, but he's never been as direct as Kiyoomi, who bleeds truth through his every moment. Osamu is honest with ease, sharing casual truths, but he doesn't know what to do here, where nothing is casual at all.

"Hm," is all Kiyoomi says, but he stays standing by the balcony. Turns his head to the sky, but stays beside Osamu.

Osamu breathes in the night air, and steals a sidelong glance.

Sakusa Kiyoomi really is beautiful against the night sky. He makes Osamu feel twenty-four again, pressing kisses against Kiyoomi's lips as they slip under covers, seeking heat and comfort and a way to take off the edge, bleeding into something more without meaning to.

He was wrong. The worst thing isn't being able to tell his expressions behind the mask still, after all this time.

It's remembering the way Kiyoomi tastes, and wondering whether he still tastes the same.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on [twitter!](https://twitter.com/kurokenns/)
> 
> original thread, again, [here!](https://twitter.com/kurokenns/status/1339938757370265602?s=21)
> 
> AND IRIS’ BEAUTIFUL ART, PLEEEEEEASE GO LOOK AT IT, IS [HERE!](https://twitter.com/kuehjpg/status/1340114352536387585?s=21)


End file.
